


The Temptation of Stephen Baxter

by fardareismai



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, The Second Coming (2003)
Genre: Angel/Demon AU, F/M, Gen, Non-Sexual relationships, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, non-sexual love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai/pseuds/fardareismai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2003, Christopher Eccleston played the character of Stephen Baxter in the Russel T. Davies TV mini-series The Second Coming.  In that, he plays the second Son or Avatar of God sent to save the world, as Jesus the Nazarene did in the first century AD and, like his more famous brother, Stephen Baxter vanished for forty days and nights before the start of his “ministry.”</p>
<p>I offer you what I think was learned and experienced by the second Son of God during those days.</p>
<p>Stephen Baxter, Rose, and Jack all belong to the BBC and Russell T. Davies and I am merely making use of them to my own ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Temptation of Stephen Baxter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleurdeneuf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdeneuf/gifts).



> This fic is a birthday gift to my beloved @fleurdeneuf who regularly bemoans the fact that Rose is almost never paired off with another Christopher Eccleston character as is so common for David Tennant characters. To that end, I tried to decide on a CE character with whom I could pair Rose. The bones of this fic came to me in a conversation with my husband around 1:30 AM one morning. The story itself got away from me, and turned into something I did not expect. I would like to thank Fleur for allowing me the opportunity to explore this one, because I (if no one else) had a fantastic time writing it.

Stephen Baxter had never done anything of even the slightest note in the thirty years he had inhabited the Earth. He'd never held a job more influential than video store clerk. He'd never had an idea more groundbreaking than going down to the pub with his mates. He had no stores of charisma or wit- parties began before he arrived and continued long after he left. He had no passions more inspiring even than his quiet, unrequited longing for his mate Judith.

He should, in short, have lived and died remembered by noone and having made no impact on the world at all.

He didn't, however. He couldn't. He was a man with a great destiny set before him and, when a kiss in a seedy carpark outside of a working-class pub set his destiny in motion, Stephen Baxter began to change the world.

~?~?~?~?~

In the beginning, it is told, there were two- a tempter and a guardian. One was evil, and one good. One lowly, and one lofty. It is a tale told even to children to warn them of the weakness of humans and its message is clear- be strong or lose everything.

As with most stories, however, it's not nearly as simple as that.

In the beginning, it is told, there were God and the Angels, and they were good. In time, however, there were those among the angels who rebelled and were cast out from the sight of God to build their own kingdom of darkness to counteract the light, and that those two forces have been at war ever since.

As with most stories, however, that is not all there is to it.

There are, simply put, laws by which even Gods must abide. For every creation of light, there must be a creation of darkness. There is neither ultimate good, nor ultimate evil, there is only balance. Each creation is only what it was created to be- dark or light, temptation or relief, judgment or compassion.

It was, in the beginning, a striving toward balance that prompted the creation of man. Where the Angels and the Demons were darkness and light in opposite numbers, could equal amounts of darkness and light be combined in a single creation?

And so it was, in the beginning, that one- a creature of the dark- was sent to test this new creation, and one- his opposite number of the light- was sent to judge. When the creation was found imperfect- more dark than light- it was the responsibility of the judge to send them away to begin again.

And so it was through time immemorial- temptation and judgment lived side-by-side until such time as balance could be reached. It had been thought once, long ago, that the balance had been found and the Son had been sent to unbind the shackles of man to its creator. The Angels and the Demons had waited, for if Men had found the balance that they had been created to maintain, it was unclear what would happen to the agents of the old order. They might simply vanish into nonbeing.

And so, as the man Jesus died, all of the hosts of Heaven and Hell waited on the razor's edge simply to cease. And none waited with more fear and more thrill than the two who had stood among Men from the beginning- the Serpent and the Sword.

See them there, clutching hands. One dark and one bright- waiting to be proven right and to no longer be, or to be proven wrong and to continue with what they had always been and done. See their fear. See their excitement.

The events of that day on a hill outside of a city called Holy did not end the war for balance. The man, Jesus, returned as something more than a man and set the world on a new path. The Angel and the Demon of Eden sighed, and it was both relief and sorrow in equal parts.

And the world continued on.

~?~?~?~?~

They watched him together, as they had since the moment of his birth. As they had since time immemorial.

"What do you hope for, Angel?" the demon asked. "The last time we tempted and judged a Son you wanted him to succeed. Do you still?" He turned to look at the girl who sat beside him, her brown eyes trained on the approach of the Son. She said nothing, but he knew the answer anyway.

Two thousand years before, in the Judean desert, the Angel had wanted to judge the Son worthy. She had wanted him to die.

She'd had nothing against the man, Jesus, called Anointed, but her desire to see Humanity reach its great destiny had overcome her compassion for the Son as well as her fear for her own nonexistence.

He had known because he had felt the same.

"Why ask questions you already know the answer to, Demon?" the angel asked, quietly. "You know what I hope for. You know what I fear."

He did. He hoped and feared the same things.

Stephen Baxter was no Jesus of Nazareth. For some reason, the second Son had wormed his way into the hearts of his watchers in a way the first Son had not.

"If he succumbs to temptation-" the demon began.

"-Then he will be judged unworthy," the angel continued for him.

"And he will live."

The angel sighed. The Man was nearly upon them. They didn't have time for this conversation, particularly when they knew how it would conclude. The same way it had concluded for thirty years since the second Son had been born.

"And humanity will continue to live in conflict- dark with light. And you and I will continue to judge them from on high and from below. The Serpent and the Sword for all time."

"Has it really been so bad as all of that?" he asked with a grin that was the embodiment of temptation.

She wasn't temptable, however, and simply rolled her eyes. "You know it hasn't. You know how attached I have grown to existence. And to you, Lowly One."

"As have I, Lofty One, as have I. Yet, here we sit, awaiting the one who will send us into nonbeing."

"We don't know for sure what will happen to us. Nonbeing seems the most… likely outcome, but we don't _know_ anything."

The demon reached out and took her hand. "It's not nonbeing that you fear, is it?"

"There you go, asking questions you know the answer to again."

It wasn't simply existence of which both had grown inordinately fond, it was the Son. If they found him worthy, he would die.

"He is a human," the demon said, logically. "It is in the nature of humans to die eventually."

"Don't be a fool, Serpent. It isn't just death that awaits him, but suffering. If not for the Son, I'd say you and I have the worst deal in all creation, but He must suffer and die, and if you and I were wrong it doesn't even mean anything."

"The Nazarene changed the entire course of human development, Sword."

The second Son was nearly upon them.

"Oh Jack," she said, leaning a head on his shoulder, "I just feel so sorry for him. I don't want to see him hurt."

"Then judge him unworthy, Rose," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She laughed, tears spilling over onto her rose-petal cheeks. "You've been living among humans too long, my friend. They may ascribe free will to us, but that joy belongs only to the creatures of balance. You and I must do as we were created to do and no other."

The demon pressed a kiss into the golden halo of hair on the crown of her head, his eyes closing as he basked for a moment in her light.

"It is time."

~?~?~?~?~

Stephen Baxter could not have said where he was running to or what he was running from, but he was compelled to run, and he followed that compulsion until he had no idea where he was. For all he had been running as though the hounds of Hell nipped at his heels, he wasn't winded. For all he was more lost than he had ever been, he wasn't afraid.

When the compulsion to run left him, he stopped. He did not look about as though to return home, he simply waited. He was in this place for a reason, he knew, he just had to wait for it to make itself plain.

"Stephen Baxter." The voice came from behind him, and Stephen turned to find himself nearly nose-to-nose with one of the most handsome men he'd ever seen in his life.

The man looked like one of those movie stars out of America- strong jaw, soulful blue eyes, dimpled chin, and a smirk that looked like temptation incarnate. When he grinned (which he did when Stephen stepped back in surprise at his sudden appearance) he displayed a set of perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked, beginning to pace around Stephen, forcing him to turn on the spot to keep the man in view.

"No," Stephen said, honestly.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No," Stephen said again. The man was wearing black and blue, and in the darkness of the forest clearing, he seemed to be flickering in and out among the shadows.

"What _do_ you know, Stephen Baxter?"

Stephen shrugged. "After I kissed Judith, I knew I had to run. Then I knew I had to stop. Now I know that you have to show or tell me something." He frowned for a moment, something else occurring to him. "And I know that you're not alone. There's someone else."

"Lofty One, I believe that's your cue."

The man was standing in front of Stephen when he said it, and moved his eyes from Stephen's face to a point over his shoulder, prompting Stephen to turn around.

The woman there seemed to glow golden in the dim clearing. She was small, blonde, and the most beautiful woman that Stephen had ever seen. She was the sort of girl that, if he'd seen her in the pub, he would have immediately turned away from because she was so far out of his league. She scarcely looked over twenty.

She rolled her eyes at the man standing behind Stephen. "You are the one with the flair for the dramatic, Lowly One. I would prefer we did this in as straightforward a way as possible."

"Lucky for us, it's gentleman's choice in this matter, wouldn't you say?"

Stephen broke into this banter with an annoyed question. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Jack," the man said, laughter clear in his voice. "It's easier than most of the alternatives."

Stephen turned to the woman behind him. "Aliases, is it? Who does that make you then, if he's Jack? Jackie? Jaqueline?"

She shrugged, unperturbed by his irritation, a smile tugging the corner of that wide mouth. "If you like. It doesn't really matter. But I generally go by Rose."

"Jack and Rose? Like from the Titanic movie?"

The woman calling herself Rose snorted and began to pace around to where the man called Jack stood.

"We chose those names long before James Cameron got his hands on them," Jack said.

"But if you like the cultural touchstone, then yes. Jack and Rose. Like Titanic." The woman named Rose gave him a gentle smile.

"You know, there might be some truth to that movie, in point of fact," Jack said, grinning down at the small blonde woman who had finally reached his side. "We were there, after all. Not that you'd ever let me see you in nothing but a necklace."

The girl shook her head. "There is a time and a place, Serpent, and this is neither."

"As you say, Angel."

Stephen frowned at the pair of them. "Is that what this is then? Angels and Demons?"

The woman shrugged. "That is what Men have been calling us for a very long time, so I suppose that makes it true."

"You seem right chummy considering you're enemies."

"That's because we're not," the man called Jack said, his teeth flashing in the dimness.

"You have been a human for a very long time, Stephen Baxter, and humans are so limited in their vision." The woman called Rose spoke slowly and clearly, and Stephen could feel the power of her voice echoing in his very soul. "They see black and white. Good and evil. God and the devil. But you're beginning to see more, aren't you?"

She took a step toward him. For all her eyes were brown where the man's were blue, hers glowed lucent in the starlight where his seemed to vanish into the shadows.

"You're beginning to see that it isn't as simple as you've always been told. Good and evil? Nothing but words. You're beginning to see the places where the darkness and the light touch." She looked around at the moon-gilded clearing in which they stood. "Places like this."

"Why?" Stephen asked. He was caught in the net of her eyes and seemed unable to look away or speak above a whisper. "Why are you here? Why am I?"

"Let's find out, shall we?"

~?~?~?~?~

"Mr. Baxter, the meeting with the Japanese investors has been moved to 3:30 this afternoon, which will give you time to take a few extra questions at the board meeting at 1. Before that, what would you like for lunch, sir?"

Stephen looked up to find Judith standing before him in an expensive and tasteful business suit, her hair pulled severely away from her face and her makeup applied with care.

"I…" he said, completely wrong-footed. How had he come to be here? "What?"

"Your lunch, sir. What would you like so that I can put the order in?"

"Erm… I... " Stephen had no idea what to say. "Same thing I had yesterday?"

Judith smiled at him. "Of course, sir. I'll put that order in now. Will that be all?"

"Er… yes. Thank you, Judith."

When she was gone, Stephen looked around the room in which he found himself. It was the type of office one only sees in films. There was a wide plate glass window overlooking a gorgeous view of London and before it a huge, impressive, dark-wood desk with a large leather chair with a high-enough back that, if Stephen sat down in it and turned his back to the door, he could do a Bond-villain reveal to anyone who walked in.

There were bookshelves on the wall, several chairs, and a plush leather sofa. The carpets were thickly piled. Everything was expensive, but discreetly so- all in the best of taste.

A phone sat on the desk, and while it was more complicated than any device Stephen had ever before been given access to, there was a button with Judith's name next to it, so he picked up the receiver and pressed the button.

"Yes, Mr. Baxter?" she said. Her familiar voice was soothing to his jangled nerves, but the deference in her tone was so foreign as to render her nearly unrecognizable.

"Judy, mate… do you have a moment? Can you come in here and… I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Yes, Mr. Baxter. I'll be in in just one moment."

Stephen put down the phone and stared pensively at the door. When Judith entered, she was smiling politely, but distantly at him.

"Judith… can you tell me the name of this company?"

That caught her attention, and her blue eyes narrowed shrewdly at him. "Is this some kind of a test, Mr. Baxter?"

Stephen shrugged. He had no idea what it was, but he needed information, and Judith was literally the only person who might be able to give it to him. "I suppose, if that makes sense to you. Not a lot else does just now."

"This is Baxter Ltd., Mr. Baxter."

"And… what is it exactly that Baxter Ltd. does, Judy?"

Her eyebrows drew together, creating a crease between them. He had, many times before then, wanted to press a kiss to that crease. Now it frustrated him.

"It's an investment firm, sir. When a company is failing, we buy it up and make improvements until the company is profitable again, then we either sell it to someone else or we maintain it and a percentage of the profits." She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly vulnerable. "That's right, isn't it sir? I know I've been here long enough that this should be rote, but… I'm afraid I'm never quite sure."

"Why should I know? You're a dozen times cleverer than I am, Judith! You always have been."

"Oh no sir. You're the CEO here. This is your company, forged from the ground up by you, Stephen Baxter. No, I'm not even in the same league as you, sir."

Stephen blinked at his friend, wondering. His company? The product of his brain?

"Is… is there money in it, Judith? In… being an investment firm?"

"Oh yes sir," she answered quickly. "Baxter Ltd. is one of the top one-hundred earning companies in the world, sir. It's up there with Microsoft and Apple and IBM."

Stephen stared at her, open-mouthed.

"Will that be all, sir?" She asked, looking uncomfortable.

Stephen could do nothing but nod and she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"You're one of the richest men in the world." The voice came from behind him and Stephen turned to see the demon who had called himself Jack leaning his shoulder against the window, looking out over London. The light coming in from the window cast him in silhouette, though Stephen could still see the flash of blue in his eyes and white in his teeth.

"No more rented room and shared loo. No more pot noodles. No more piss-poor beer at the pub when nothing else is on special," Jack continued, pushing himself off the window and beginning to stalk slowly toward Stephen.

"You're charitable too, if that matters to you. You've a massive foundation that feeds the poor, houses widows and orphans, and saves lost puppies."

"Bet I've got no trouble with girls with that kind of money," Stephen said. "What does Judith think?"

"She'd be yours for the taking, if you wanted her. All you'd have to do is ask."

"But it's not real, is it? She wouldn't be real. The money… none of it would be real."

Jack grinned. "Sure it is. You don't think I have the power to make it real? That _you_ don't?"

Stephen snorted. "I'd know it wasn't though. I know I'm not smart enough for-" he gestured wildly at the office around him, "all this!"

"You could be. You could be this clever and this rich and this powerful, if you wanted. And you needn't remember your old life at all, if you don't want to. Take care of your dad, have the girl you've always longed for, help your friends out of tight spots. You know Keith? Who always wanted to start a band? You could help him reach that dream! You and Judith could have a couple of kids, raise them right, give them everything you never had. What do you say? Worth it?"

"Worth what?" Stephen asked, suddenly realizing that there must be a price. "What am I paying for this?"

"You know," Jack said, seriously. "You know what the price is. But my question to you is this: is it worth it to you? Everything you ever wanted… do you want it enough?"

Stephen closed his eyes. He knew the price, though he could not have put it to words. Was it worth it? He knew that the cost was something he feared most desperately and yet…

And yet he knew he could not pay it.

"No," he whispered, and everything went black.

~?~?~?~?~

Stephen's head spun and he thought he might be sick, but there was something warm resting against the side of his neck, and there was a melodious humming in his ears.

His eyes flickered open and he found that it was midday, but still in that damp clearing in which he'd met Jack the demon and Rose the angel.

It was Rose in whose lap his head was currently resting, humming appealingly but tunelessly above him, hand on his neck. She smelled not of the wet and the trees, but of sunlight and the sea, and he wondered how.

"You did very well, Stephen," she said, though he could have sworn that he hadn't moved.

"What _was_ that?"

"Temptation. Since the beginning of the world, Jack has been a master of finding those things that people desire. Knowledge… that used to be his favourite tool, but since the advent of the internet he's had to get a bit more… primitive."

Stephen pushed himself out of her lap and shifted around to look at her. She was sitting tailor-fashion on the ground, back erect, eyes bright, watching him with a peculiar expression somewhere between hope and resignation.

"If he's temptation, then what are you? Salvation?"

She shrugged. "Of a sort. I'm judgment. Sometimes I'm salvation, and sometimes I'm… not. There used to be a great fiery sword involved, but that's been put aside in recent years. A bit vulgar, really."

"You called him 'Serpent.' Last night you-"

She laughed suddenly, and Stephen blinked to hear it. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It was the rush of water over rocks and the sound of church bells in the village and rain over the fields and familiar voices welcoming him in. It was also power and pain and eternity all in a sound.

"That wasn't yesterday, my dear. It's been a week."

Stephen gaped at her. "A week? But… how do- how did- how long is this going to take?"

"Traditionally, it takes forty days and nights. Well… I don't know how to count a tradition that has only happened once before in all of human history, but that's what happened the last time, and I think Jack will like to keep things consistent. It helps prove that we're not trying to stack the deck in our favour."

"You mean I haven't even finished yet?"

That laugh sounded again. "Oh no. That was just the beginning. There will be three great temptations, at least of the kind that Jack can devise. I suspect there will be more along the way, but Jack and I can neither create those nor shield you from them."

"Why?" He cried out, on the brink of tears. "What is the bloody point?"

"Oh Stephen," she said, quietly, reaching out a hand and cupping his cheek, running her thumb over his cheekbone. He nuzzled into her hand, finding the gesture more comforting than it should have been- it seemed to relax every muscle in his body into warm languor and he wanted nothing more than to bask in it for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry, Stephen, but it's time."

~?~?~?~?~

Stephen blinked open his eyes as Judith's mouth left his. She took another moment to open hers, blonde lashes fluttering over grey eyes. The halogen bulbs in the carpark turned her skin a nasty shade of orange, but the light drizzle spangled her eyelashes and the wisps of hair flying about her face with diamond drops.

The caterwauling of karaoke inside the pub was counterpoint to the the blood rushing in his ears, and he thought he could hear Peter calling them back inside.

"That was-" he began, but she stopped him by slanting her mouth back over his, kissing him again for all she was worth. This time it was more than just the tentative brush of lips, but a full-on devouring kiss, like one sees at the end of a film.

Her mouth opened and Stephen followed suit, too stunned to do otherwise. Her tongue was in his mouth, muscular and soft, slip-sliding against his in a rhythmic motion that made his jeans grow tight. He met her move-for-move, breathing heavily through his nose, desperate to keep up and not to make a mistake.

When she pulled her mouth away from his again, he chased her lips with his, but was distracted when a great cheer went up from the entrance to the pub which made them both turn to look.

Their friends were all there, watching them. Peter and Dave appeared to be paying off a bet, and Fiona was watching them through slightly misty eyes, grinning like mad.

"They've been hoping for this for a dog's age, you know," Judith said, leaning into his shoulder and giggling. "Kept telling me you were mad for me. I couldn't see it."

"I have been though," Stephen said, reaching a tentative hand up to rest atop her head. "Mad for you, I mean. Since… forever really. Since we were in school, at least."

"Yeah?" She asked, pulling away to look him in the face. "Really?"

"I'd never lie to you, Judith. You've got to know that, haven't you?"

That made her grin, and he leaned down to kiss that grin that he loved so well which inspired another cheer from the crowd at the door.

"Shove off you lot!" Judith yelled at them all, laughing. She turned back to Stephen again, her smile going soft and gentle. "Come back to mine tonight?"

He was about to say "yes, of course!" when he caught sight of a strange face in the crowd of lifetime familiarity. A face of demonic charm. The man (whose name, Stephen suddenly remembered, was Jack) raised a glass of amber liquid to him and took a long sip as though the contract had been made.

Stephen could not remember who the man really was. He couldn't remember anything but the feel of Judith's lips on his and the desperate desire to have what he'd wanted for years, but he knew- even if he didn't know why- what he must do.

"I'm sorry, Judy but… I can't. Not tonight."

Judith's eyes suddenly went cold in fury. "Not tonight? You've wanted me forever, Stephen, you just said so yourself, but not tonight? Look, you're only getting this offer once, okay? You're either with me or you're not. I won't have any of this spineless, failure to commit bullshit, Baxter."

"I'm sorry, Judith. I… I can't."

Her face hardened and she stood, walking away from him without another word.

The world went black.

~?~?~?~?~

"He's so different from the first one."

Stephen could hear the voice from beyond the bubble of hunger, thirst, and exhaustion that he seemed to be floating in. It was a soft, sweet voice and seemed united with the warm hand that stroked across his short hair.

"The first one knew, from the time he was twelve years old what he was. He studied the religious texts and read the philosophers. He could answer each temptation with the words of the prophets who came before. The first one was given every advantage."

The second voice was harsher, angrier. Not at Stephen, he didn't think, but at the injustice of Stephen having been cheated.

"And yet, even without the preparation the Nazarene received, he succeeds. He is stronger than the Anointed One."

Stephen could hear a shuffle and when the man's voice spoke, it was closer to him, as though the demon had knelt to speak closely to the angel.

"Lofty One, do we really want him to succeed? Our final act shall be to watch him suffer and die. How can we bear it?"

"We need not bear it long, Lowly One." One of the hands that had been on Stephen's head vanished, and he could imagine her cupping the demon's face as she had his, offering her comfort. "We will vanish into nothing. Into non-being."

"Ending our lives in pain." The man's voice was still bitter, but the angel's comfort seemed to have soothed him some.

"We owe it to him to end our lives as he will. And perhaps we are wrong again and we will not vanish and there will be another."

"You don't believe it, Bringer of Judgement. I know you don't. You know that he will unbind the world."

"Yes. I know it, Tempter of Man." Her hand stroked over Stephen's head again. "And yet I could hope to be wrong. For his sake I would hope for Heaven to remain, if only for him to have a glimpse."

"The final judgment is yours, Sword. Would you keep him from his destiny?"

"Hush now, Serpent. Let him sleep. Let him have what peace remains him."

~?~?~?~?~

"Welcome to 10 Downing Street, Mr. Prime Minister!"

Stephen looked down at Judith in her new suit, clutching his hand, grinning up at him with joy and trepidation.

"As this is our new home, Mrs. Baxter, it seems only right that I should carry you across the threshold," he said before scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the famous house.

This behaviour was greeted with amused indulgence by Stephen's political staff and the domestic help for Downing Street. He set his wife back on her feet at the door and began to greet the crowd of people waiting for him with smiles and handshakes down the line.

The domestic staff took Judith off to the living quarters, and his aides and Peter, his right-hand man, walked with him to the offices that he would occupy during his time as the highest authority in the country.

"Oh, and Mr. Prime Minister? There's a man waiting to speak to you. He's in your office now. He… well he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and his clearance is of the highest order. I'm barely cleared to be in the same room with him," Peter said as they approached the doors to the office, smiling even as he looked nervous.

"Quite the welcome, eh? Well then I'll go in and see what trouble I can get the world into today, what do you say?" He continued past his coterie and into the office where he was unsurprised to find the demon, Jack, waiting for him.

"Well, you did well this time. Your best effort yet. Bloody Prime Minister, me!" Stephen said, throwing himself into a seat across from Jack and glaring at the other man.

"Well, you can't complain that you're not smart enough to have the post. Some of the stupidest men in the country have held it."

Stephen snorted but did not disagree.

"And you have her- not just her body, not just her presence, you _have_ her. Heart and soul and ring on your finger."

"Did you dig into my head to see how much she means to me then?"

Jack smiled. "I've been watching you since the moment you were conceived, Stephen. I've watched you fall in love with Judith and I've watched you act like an angsty, spotty teenager over her since you _were_ an angsty, spotty teenager."

"Oi!"

"But more even than the money, more than Judith, you have the _power_ to make change here, Stephen. All those injustices you've seen in the world- this is the place from which you can fix them, don't you see that?"

Stephen sat for a long time just staring at the demon. "And if I chose this... If I said yes and took this thing you're offering instead of… whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing… what then? Will I remember that it's not real?"

"Not if you don't want to."

Stephen stood up and started prowling the office, gesturing wildly. "I heard you two, you know. You were talking about 'the first one.' You called him The Nazarene. That's Jesus Bloody Christ, isn't it?"

Jack said nothing, just watched Stephen pacing.

"You said I would die! Why _wouldn't_ I choose this? It's everything I want! Money, power, love! Who wouldn't choose it?"

Still Jack said nothing.

"You know, I've read my bible. I've read what you did to the first bastard. Turning rocks into bread? Throwing himself from the top of the temple? What kinds of temptations are those? You seem to be giving me a much harder time!"

" _I_ didn't write the official story, my lad," said the man who looked at least 15 years younger than Stephen, but who he knew to be many hundreds of centuries older.

Stephen sat down again and leaned toward Jack.

"You and Rose are afraid of this. You're afraid of me dying. You're afraid that you'll vanish. More than that though, you don't want to see me die. Why?"

Jack didn't answer. Not out loud. He reached a hand out and laid it against Stephen's cheek.

His skin smelled of rain water, and starlight, and secret green glades, and there seemed a calming, shadowy coolness to his touch. Where Rose's had felt like spring sunlight, Jack's felt like autumn shadows.

Stephen opened his eyes which were, inexplicably, full of tears. "Why won't you just pass judgment on me? Let me live as a man, die as a man, and leave things as they are?"

"Oh Stephen. For you alone we would. We would defy all of creation if it were only you at stake, but there is so much more than that. We cannot do it ourselves, we haven't the power. But _you_ do. You must choose- yourself or the world."

Stephen bowed his head, burying his face in his hands and he wept.

~?~?~?~?~

It was night again when Stephen Baxter opened his eyes, but a night lit not by star-and-moonlight alone. The clearing blazed with a flickering, red-gold light of a blade of flame held in the hands of the creature who was the most beautiful, most terrible thing that he had ever seen.

She glowed like golden sunlight formed into a tall, slim form. Beside her, slightly taller and slightly broader was a creature that appeared to be made of slipping shadows, blue and black and violet.

"Stephen Baxter." The voice was like thunder and rolling waves, but also like a mother's lullaby heard again in memory across the decades. "You have been tempted, and you have been judged. Have you anything to say on your own behalf?"

He stood facing them, beautiful and terrible and impossible. "I am very afraid," he said, simply.

"That is wisdom, second Son." The voice from the dark figure was the sound of leaves shifting in the wind and rain falling into a pond and the screech of an owl at night.

"You have been found worthy, Man. Your task is now begun. You will forget what you have learned here. Your trials await you now."

The great golden figure leaned down to Stephen and became, in a moment, the small, sweet face that he had grown familiar with. Golden hair and brown eyes and rose-petal skin, and the kiss she placed on his mouth tasted of honeysuckle and summer-ripe wheat.

The great dark figure approached next, and turned as well into the handsome man with the flashing smile and rumpled hair. His kiss tasted of leaf mould and icy snowmelt.

"Go then, Son."

And he went.

~?~?~?~?~

Rose turned away from the sight when Stephen Baxter died. She buried her face in Jack's shoulder, and he rested a hand in her hair to keep her from turning around to look.

The two waited, tense and afraid, wondering what it would be like to no longer be.

Would it hurt?

Would there be anything left of them to hurt?

They waited, the Angel and the Demon, standing together for an eternal time until both felt a touch on the shoulder and turned. There stood the second Son, smiling at the pair of them.

"Come on then," he said, taking one of each of their hands. "It's time to see what this new world is like."


End file.
